


An Endless City

by Kuro_Ko



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, F/F, Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_Ko/pseuds/Kuro_Ko
Summary: AU. From her mouth a scream escaped that she did not know she contained. It tore her throat on its way to the outside world, merciless with her vocal cords and sore lungs, her muscles seizing up. It didn't matter, because it was part of her, a part she wasn’t able to control. And she continued screaming, she continued as her whole body did not stop pushing, her blood galloping, her heart beating, her mind trying to escape. And that scream was a beastly howl, a way of letting out the animal that was inside her, dwelling and thrashing in her guts and she could not tame.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	An Endless City

She kept running, despite the pain in her knees, the burning in her lungs, the constant and growing jab at her side that kept biting her like a hungry animal.

She kept running.

She kept running even though she no longer saw where she was going, she no longer remembered where she came from. She no longer understood what she was feeling and refused to understand it.

Catra ran without rest, without truce, without illusions. An everlasting career that only rang in her ears as the worn soles of her leather boots clanged against the ground with force, as if she were the only one in the whole world who could continue in that wild race as if she were the only one who could understand the words that no one whispered to her and yet she still heard.

She opened her mouth to suck in a breath of air to help her, to give her a little oxygen to continue running, an injection of adrenaline that would take her out of that eternal trance, of that infinite pain.

From her mouth a scream escaped that she did not know she contained. It tore her throat on its way to the outside world, merciless with her vocal cords and sore lungs, her muscles seizing up.

It didn't matter, because it was part of her, a part she wasn’t able to control.

And she continued screaming, she continued as her whole body did not stop pushing, her blood galloping, her heart beating, her mind trying to escape.

And that scream was a beastly howl, a way of letting out the animal that was inside her, dwelling and thrashing in her guts and she could not tame.

* * *

"Come on, Adora! You're late for your stupid game.” Catra paced uneasily outside the large door to the school gym, the large mass of people who had entered the covered stadium had seen the teenager sitting on the sidewalk curb, her right hand holding her chin with a bored grimace.

It was unusual for Adora to be late, worse still, it was almost unheard of for Catra to arrive before her friend. Always running from one place to another, always at the top of her energy, in a thousand activities that continued one after another, Catra always after Adora as she was almost dragged away by the maelstrom that was Adora.

But now she did not arrive, nor did she answer her cell phone, nor did she answer the messages that she sent her. Catra would not admit it to herself, much less to the people who shared her life, but she was worried.

“Where are you…?”

They were sixteen years old and a very hostile world was before them. A world that would not hesitate for a second to swallow them completely and not even leave a memory of them behind. A single memento or sign that they had ever walked through the crowded city, through the dirty streets or the sidewalks wet with rainwater. Nothing to write in the history of humanity, not a small paragraph of their existence.

Catra just had Adora. Adora just had Catra.

That was their life, that was their dynamic. If one of them were missing it would break their routine and their life in a way that would be irreparable.

So when the crowd had already settled into their seats, when the game had already started and she could hear the referee's whistle and the players' sneakers from outside as they moved like hunting hounds after the ball in a desperate attempt to earning more points than the opposing team, Catra stood up, trying to distract herself from the void that was growing in her belly with a constant walk before the gym door.

And she had paced in front of the door for a few minutes before she pulled her phone out of her pocket again, turning the screen on and off to see the time and incoming messages. A talisman that connected her to the world and that didn’t bring her news of the only person on it who interested her.

She stopped, a hand in her hip, calling Adora again.

The sound of a call that never connected though could be cruel. Very cruel when you needed to hear the voice at the other end of the line.

She clenched her teeth when she heard the tone of the call go offline, the frustration now rising in her throat, its claws firm on her throat, making sure that breathing and talking was a little more difficult with each passing second.

Her heart tighter every second.

There was something else there, something that raced the rhythm of her hear, something that hurt when she thought about it, something that twisted forcefully every time the possibility was even born in her head. More reasons to keep it silent, apart from what in her day to day she thought, reviewed, analyzed, accepted.

No.

That was, still, far away.

She put the cell phone in her pockets. Her skinny jeans, somewhat worn down, somewhat torn, could barely hold the device in place.

She kept walking, relentlessly, one lap after another. Inside the gym some players had done something out of the ordinary, judging by the screaming and applause from the public.

"She's missing those silly pirouettes that make her so happy ..." she mumbled, a shiver running through her body as the sun finished setting and the night settled over them.

She paused, hands still in her pockets, watching the street Adora would have to appear from, biting her lower lip. It could be that something had really happened to her, it could be that she would have to go back to the home they shared and find out from those who had been forced to live together that something had happened.

That Adora was not well, that something had happened to her, the only consistent reason for her not coming to the game that she had asked Catra to watch together.

She shook her head vigorously.

No, nothing could happen to Adora, she was too stupid, too determined, too strong for anything to really affect her. No, she was fine, she had just been late for work, she had taken the wrong bus, the train that would take her from one point of the city to another had stopped because the public transport system was a disgrace.

There were hundreds of reasons why Adora was late.

Hundreds.

She only had to hold on to one of them.

They would soon be eighteen and at last on their own, free to make the world their world. To finally make their mark, compel it to remember them, to write a page in history that would do them justice.

She mussed her long wild, loose hair before biting her right thumbnail, the black nail polish was somewhat chipped like the rest of her nails on both hands. But cheap nail polish wasn't her concern, she didn't even think about it when, with her left hand, she pulled out her phone and looked at the time again, still nibbling on her thumb in an attempt to distract herself from her real worries.

"Catra!" She turned, a smile on her face that she suppressed instantly, a ripple of relief that initially bewildered her. Adora jogged toward her, her face streaked with sweat, her soccer team jacket tucked under her arm, a plain white T-shirt her only defense against the autumn’s night. She reached her and put her hands on her knees, gasping for air. Her friend got a little closer, she could see the steam coming from her agitated skin, she could even smell the soap and shampoo mixture together with the warm sweat, like after one of her matches, when she ran to hug her after scoring a goal and she lifted her up in blind joy before letting her go and getting tackled by the entire team behind her.

Something stirred inside her.

"You finally appear! You've kept me waiting for your stupid game!" And you had me worried, she didn’t add.

"Sorry, sorry ..." She gasped, sucking in breaths to try to catch her breath. "My shift in the cafeteria was extended and the bus didn’t pass ..."

"Whatever, didn't you get my calls?"

“I forgot to charge my cell phone.”

"Adora ..." She growled, running her hands over her face, her frustration a fraction of what it was before. Waves of relief still coursing through her body to the tips of her fingers. She took a deep breath, watching Adora who was back upright and breathing more normally. She was a few inches taller at least, her blond hair tied in a high ponytail and a puff hair that had accompanied her since she met her. She didn't know how she managed to keep it from moving despite all the physical activity she had just done. “It's too late, I doubt they'll let us in, the guy at the entrance didn't look very friendly.”

“What? Really? Nooooo… ” Adora jogged toward the entrance, her energy an inexhaustible source, she stood on the balls of her feet, her black sneakers battered and worn down, trying to see something behind the closed doors of the gym. She growled defeated when the tall metal fence was the only thing she could really make out.

Catra walked up to her, steam still rising from her shoulders and head. The jacket was still under her arm, the white T-shirt fitted to her broad shoulders and athletic arms. Catra looked at her body as if it was the first time she had seen it, despite it being her daily sight every morning when she woke up in the highest bed of the bunk bed in the room they shared at home. It didn't matter if it was when they woke up or in the middle of the city on an autumn night, Adora was always Adora, a sad look when seeing her panorama canceled by her delay.

"Forget it, they won't let us in ... Come on, we still have time." She nudged her shoulder gently, just one way to get her attention. Catra kept walking, her leather boots and tight jeans a fundamental difference with her friend's sneakers and straight pants.

“Where are we going?”

"I wasn't sitting on the sidewalk waiting for you for free, you owe me at least a hamburger. Come on, you better have been paid extra for those hours you had to cover...”

"Catra? No, wait, Catra!” Catra began to jog, Adora behind calling and laughing.

Yes, just the two of them against the world.

They would be free; they would be wild.

They would be remembered.

Catra was sure of that.

* * *

She hit the brick wall with her body, disoriented, her vision out of focus, and her world spinning on itself. She used both hands to steady herself, her body light and dazed as if her own limbs were no longer hers and something light and elusive had slipped into her veins and changed the composition of her body.

She tried to stay upright, but it was impossible. Instead, she dropped to the ground, using the wall as a guide and then as a support when she leaned her back against it. Her worn down leather jacket ripped out noises from the still-warm brick after a full day in the cruel summer sun.

She took a deep breath, trying to place herself in her reality. She was seventeen and her life could be better.

But it could also be worse.

She looked up at the dark, purple, starless sky thanks to the endless lights of the big city. Even that revolved around itself as if the earth's gravity suddenly made the universe revolve around it. As if Catra was the very center of that universe that never ceased in its eternal turning, in its eternal journey without destination or end.

What a joke.

“Yeah, right…”

Her mind was cruel, she, the center of a universe. She, not even the center of her best friend’s world.

Pain bubbled up her esophagus and burned her insides with a voraciousness she hadn’t felt before. She was drowned in it and lit by it in equal parts. Waking up something in her that she knew she had but didn't want to look at.

Adora was still in there, for sure. She had disappeared in the midst of the commotion and the shrill music, Catra had moved away from everyone to go outside and breathe. Adora had disappeared in the middle of a crowd, a mass of people who wanted to hear the stories of the captain of the soccer team, of the blonde who had brought the team almost to the national championship, of the teenager of whom they knew nothing, but they wanted to have it all.

Adora surrounded by people was not her Adora, it could never be hers if there were others around her, standing in her way. There were so many others willing to offer their friendship when that bond was something reserved for Catra and only for her.

She snorted, hugged her knees, and rested her forehead against them.

Adora would never choose her when there were so many other options.

"Catra?" The blue eyes that she had known for so many years observed her with curiosity, Adora was squatting in front of her, her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol she had consumed, her posture slightly tilted to her left, her smile impossible to hide. “What are you doing out here?”

"I needed some fresh air. What happened to your fan club?”

“Lonnie and Rogelio?” She laughed, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand." They are not my fans, they just wanted to talk a little about the last game...”

"Uh-huh, what happened to them? Did they leave you alone? I just wanted some air in peace, not a slightly drunk muscular blonde.” She touched her forehead with her index finger, still painting her nails with the same cheap black polish. Adora looked at the finger that was gently pushing her, a teasing smile on her face.

“-I missed you too.”

“Whatever…”

She sat next to her, looking at the starless and moonless purple sky.

"Do you ever wonder what’s beyond the city?"

"It’s too late and you are too drunk for us to try to talk about philosophy."

“Sorry? First, I am not drunk, second, you offend me with philosophizing, I am not a humanistic student ... or an outstanding student. I just…” Adora leaned against her body, part of her weight on her. Catra ignored how the muscle mass that was her friend transmitted heat and a feeling of security. She closed her eyes, visualizing her blonde hair, the undercut she now wore on the sides of her head.

The almost uncontrollable desires that she had to caress that incipient blond hair.

“I know.” Both then shared the silence. In the distance, muted by the walls of the house of a student they didn’t know and they had no interest in adding to their world, the music echoed muffled. A maelstrom of people dancing at its rhythm with alcohol in their veins to keep them spirited, a tide that pulsed at its own pace.

In the street, side by side, they looked at the universe from their little corner, without music, and without words.

And words, as they would learn later, were what they would lack.

* * *

Catra watched the rest of the children play in the courtyard of the public school in the neighborhood. She could see them through the wire fence that delimited the perimeter of the institution, an artificial and sometimes cruel barrier. In this case, unknown. She took a couple of steps closer, now holding the wire grid woven into diamond shapes with both hands, her heterochromatic eyes fixed on those who played far, running from side to side, inserted in a world she couldn't imagine. A world to which he had no access.

Not yet.

A little blonde girl skillfully climbed the iron jungles, giggling as she did so, chased by other children trying to keep up with her.

“Catra” A shiver ran through her body at the sound of the voice. She had met the woman a little less than a day ago and there was something about her that intimidated her. Something in the way she looked at her, the way she examined her.

She judged her.

She condemned her.

She turned to look at the adult who was in charge of her education and care. A fake smile she would learn later, and a dark red dress made her unmistakable.

She would be the demon of her nightmares, the poison of her days.

The physical manifestation of her pain and her internal conflicts.

“Yes?”

“Yes ma'am.” She corrected her, a dry rictus on her face. "This will be your school, some of the children will live with you at home. They are also in my care.” The woman turned, arms folded, and scanned the courtyard, registering every little human who played nonchalantly in the concrete jungle in which they imagined eternal forests, aground ships, spaceships, diverse worlds covered in adventures to be discovered and enjoyed.

Catra looked at the children again, her throat closed, her stomach churning. Without realizing it, she hugged herself.

"Come on, we still have to unpack your things ..." She took her hand with a little more force than she was used to. The girl let herself be guided, her eyes on the ground, the uncertain future gnawing at her insides. "And, Catra," She called, the little girl with wild hair and puzzled, two-color eyes focused her attention on her again. "Don't disappoint me."

Catra was five years old, almost six, and her life, in a way, had just begun.

* * *

The city was bigger than she had first imagined. Much bigger than she had ever thought.

Her wobbly footsteps weren't moving fast enough, and the night would soon turn into dawn.

The city was not only large. It was cold and it was cruel as well.

She cursed under her breath, her strides lengthening and shortening as the street did the same under her eyes. She didn't remember the way back, but if she kept walking, if she kept forcing her advance no matter what happened, she would come to a place that had to resemble home to her.

It had to.

She had to think it would be like that if not everything she would have done so far would not have made sense, all that running, all that constant without giving up would have been for nothing.

Everything would have been for nothing, an advance without meaning, a survival without reason.

She ran a hand over her face, hard, in anger. A fugitive and forbidden tear ran down her face.

It would all have been for nothing.

On that cold, dark, purplish night like all the others she saw in the big city, she didn't have Adora for perhaps the first time in her life. She felt empty, she felt like a stranger in her own skin. She despised it, hated it, didn't understand it.

She didn’t want it.

She kept walking through poorly lit streets, along empty avenues.

And the night became early morning, and the alcohol in her body ended up mixing with the pills that she had been given and that, without asking, she had swallowed. She saw double, her heart racing, her pulse fired. She was sweating profusely and that sweat cooled on her exposed skin in the winter of a cruel and endless city.

She took out her cell phone, searching through her contacts for the teenager, now a young woman, who had left her behind with a smile promising that everything would be fine. That she would be back in a couple of days.

That everything would be fine.

What a pious lie, what a kind lie.

What a painful lie.

"Idiot ..." She whispered, not knowing who she was addressing. She put the cell phone away without sending the message she had planned to write, without calling as she had thought. Of course, Adora would go on any trip that Light asked her, she had even left her training to which she devoted herself in a sacred way to attend the stupid meeting.

Light and her fixation with Adora, with her future, with her potential.

Light and her eternal favoritism for naive Adora, who seemed to not understand how strong was the control that the woman exerted on her.

Catra walked a few more steps, growling menacingly at a pair of strangers who stared at her for longer than it was polite.

She had tried it in the beginning, had shown her skills relentlessly in the early years when she still believed that the world would be fair to her. A bad joke, of course. She had done her best and had shown credentials to prove that she could be someone in life, that she was as valuable as Adora.

That together they could be an insurmountable team because each one was in themselves a formidable individual.

Light had methodically, patiently and thoroughly destroyed each of those aspirations, dynamited and undermined every little achievement, maximized every mistake, every stumbling block. Buried in criticism of each of her actions until, without realizing it, Catra had really stopped trying, had stopped sharing with Light any of her achievements or her failures, hiding everything of her life as it was possible. She had hidden in Adora's shadow as a way to protect herself from that sustained and unwavering attack.

She had resigned herself to being second, third, fourth place. To never be the priority.

She had resigned herself to just being important to Adora, as Adora was important to her. As Adora was everything to her.

And now even Adora was gone.

"It's what I always wanted, Catra, it's my chance ..." She mimicked, lifting the hood of her coat to protect herself from the freezing wind. She had seen every time Light had hammered the idea into Adora, painted a perfect picture for her, an ideal career, a ready-made life. A life where she never bothered to include Catra. Catra was only there to remind her of her failures, to remind her that it was her responsibility to keep the kid in line as if she were still a girl who couldn't decide for herself.

As if Catra was a weight tied to Adora, a beast she had to master.

She looked at her hands, in one of them was a half-filled glass bottle. She didn't know how it had gotten there, she didn't know how long it had been since she had it, holding it tight, a steel grip that wouldn't let her life slip through her fingers, wouldn't let anyone trample on her like she was just another piece of cement in the city built in steel and pavement.

She wouldn't let anyone doubt for a second what she was capable of.

She threw the bottle to the ground, enjoying the sound of the glass bursting into a thousand pieces, the splinters dancing and shining in the light of a stained dawn, the liquid spilled on the floor, an explosion without color and without smell, but with the satisfaction of the symphony of destruction breaking through.

Catra and Adora were just a few months away from turning eighteen and finally being free.

Free.

Free.

Free from the chains of an oppressive system, of a home that could not contain them, of a caretaker who did not love them.

Free to forge their own path amid millions of possibilities.

This time she did not wipe away the tears that escaped her, only the wild smile continued there when morning finally came and, with it, her steps led her back to her bed, to the room that had her things, the room that had Adora’s soccer team jacket that stole on cold days to remind herself that she was not alone.

And that there was still something in the world that could bring her solace.

* * *

"Stay still ..." Catra tried to hold Adora by the shoulders, impossible with the force contained in each of her muscles trained to exhaustion.

"It itches, this was a bad idea, I should have taken my shirt off…"

“You should’ve thought about that before, genius, now you either stay still or I cut off that hair puff that lengthens your forehead.” She patted the lock of hair to emphasize her words. Adora looked at her with a pout forming, but remained still, her blue eyes registering every movement in the bathroom mirror, her hands rising and falling, as the machine turned on by the sides of her hair, cutting long strands of hair blond.

Catra smiled, following the task with more delight than she was willing to accept. The machine, a razor they had gotten from Kyle, was doing its job wonderfully, leaving less than an inch, giving a distinctive touch to its tall ponytail and challenging puff. Catra turned off the machine, blowing on Adora's neck to get rid of the excess hair that had fallen there.

“What do you think?”

Adora ran her hands over her head, feeling the short hair on her sides and the nape of her neck, lifting golden strands that rested on her skin.

She smiled. A huge smile.

Catra had to make a conscious effort not to blush.

“I love it! It’s so light! Oh, Catra, we have to go out, I have to feel the world with this new cut…” She jumped, the chair where she was sitting fell with a crash, along with the hair that had been left on the white fabric of her shirt. Catra stepped back a couple of steps, raising her hands to get away from Hurricane Adora that had just made landfall. “Wait, why don't you try it? You have so much hair that if you don't like it, it will grow quickly!”

"Wow, wait, wait. If you want to walk around showing your thick skull like a brick is up to you, don't get me into your crazy ideas…” Adora smiled at her and snatched the machine from her hands. It was disconnected, she couldn't turn it on even if she wanted to.

But that had never been the goal.

“Just a small test, you can hide it with your hair down…”

“Adora, no.”

"Catra!"

“No! Get off me!” They both came out of the bathroom laughing, pushing and running, downstairs like a whirlwind that kept hitting each other, a danger to everyone nearby.

Those altercations were the only way they could satisfy their need for contact and closeness without addressing what was on the table in full view and patience of all.

The elephant in the room around which they preferred to push and play rather than sit and talk.

Kyle jumped back when he saw them pass by in a flash, Lonnie raised her hands to her face with a poorly contained snort. They were lucky that Light did not see them leave the house, Adora still with the razor in hand, a disaster waiting to happen that always swirled between the two.

They had just turned seventeen and the future looked promising at last.

* * *

“Catra, Catra!” The voice lost some of its warmth over her phone, but she could close her eyes and see Adora, see her face, her blue eyes, her worried expression, her demand for explanations.

"Don't scream, Adora, my head hurts ..." She tried to get up, but her body felt like lead, a penetrating headache, and a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. She did not want to look at the time, it was enough for her to know it was a weekday and that her shift would start soon if it hadn’t already started.

“Catra, you didn't say goodbye when you left yesterday, you didn't tell me if you arrived well, I was worried…”

"I'm an adult, like you, I don't need you to take care of me." She opened one eye, the light hurt her, but she still didn't have the money to buy curtains and protect herself from the mornings that insisted on waking her up in that room where she was alone.

“I know, but that doesn't mean I can't worry about you, it's my responsibility…”

“Enough, Adora.” She cut her off abruptly, she hated hearing that from her, she hated even the possibility that Adora believed she was a kid in her care, that was Light speaking, not Adora, not her friend's well-meaning idiot. “I’m not your property, you do not need to take care of me, you have sparkles and her crying friend for that.”

“Catra…”

"Listen, I have to go, we'll talk later." She cut the communication, throwing the cell phone away, somewhere in the mess that was her bed. She sat on the bed with her legs crossed. The apartment was small, a studio apartment with a poorly equipped kitchen and a dimly lit bathroom.

It was what she could afford with a paltry pay and an eight-hour job that she hated. She scratched the back of his neck, her hair as wild as every morning.

The hangover advanced dangerously behind her eyes, throbbing in her ears and turning her stomach.

She did not want to look at the time, she did not want to look at the device that surely had missed calls and messages from Adora.

She did not want to remember her decisions because she didn’t get any satisfaction from them.

She looked at her hands, her nails painted black with chipped polish, the tremors she experienced in her fingers after a night of poor sleep. She looked at them at the life that was beginning to form and a lump formed in her throat.

She was nineteen years old and alone.

When had she lost everything?

* * *

It had started as a normal night. Normal for her, at least.

Furthermore, it was a night better than normal, it was an extraordinary night. Adora had returned from her college semester and was a breath of fresh air in her life. Her hair still in the style she had given her years ago, her open smile as she remembered it, that scar that had faded on her cheek years ago.

Adora was back and Catra couldn't help but feel happy.

Although she had brought Glimmer and Bow with her.

Catra had quit one of her jobs, had advanced enough in the one she kept to move to an apartment where the kitchen had at least a refrigerator and the bathroom a window that actually looked out on the outside world. That didn’t mean that she didn’t hate it, the old stairs, the humidity in every corner, the endless work, the eternal shifts. Now they were in one of her favorite bars, where she knew the bartender, where she knew the regulars, where she knew how to ask for what she wanted to receive it in a cold glass alongside a wink, one of the few things that brought her some comfort.

And that was what she was doing, drinking from her glass of whiskey while chatting with Adora and her friends. Or, rather, she drank while Adora kept the conversation going. She felt the tension in the air, she felt the discomfort of the newcomers as they watched her empty glass after glass without exchanging words.

She didn’t understand why they were there. Adora was her friend, Adora was hers. Despite the fact that she was now playing for a college team, despite the fact that her life had changed, despite the fact that she was bringing all her dreams "or whatever Light got into her head" to reality, Adora was hers.

Adora was hers, even if she was no longer in her life.

Adora looked at her sideways, her beer glass still halfway through when she was already on her fourth of hard liquor.

"Don't you think you're drinking a little fast?" She asked, leaning towards her with something on her face that resembled worry and a somewhat annoyance.

“We aren’t all elite athletes, calm down, Adora, it's just a little liquor.”

“Catra, it's Wednesday and you have to work tomorrow, it wouldn't be wise for…”

“Adora, no. We've been through this before, I'm not a kid, you don't have to take care of me.” She finished the glass and set it aside. Part of the world was distorting, nothing strange considering the alcohol she had drunk.

But it was fine, Catra knew how to drink, she did it every week, she did it several times a week.

Catra was in control of her life and her emotions, that was what mattered.

"Catra, you're fooling yourself, you're leaning over the counter of a bar where everyone knows you on a Wednesday at nine o'clock at night ..."

"Bow, will you come with me? I think I need some air…” Glimmer, or sparkles, as her brain had cataloged her after seeing her purple clothes and shiny hair, took her boyfriend by the arm, giving them room to breathe.

Or, in this case, oxygen to burst.

Both watched as the couple left, a heavy and icy feeling settling in Catra’s stomach. She had lived long enough to know when turbulent times were approaching.

“Catra…”

“Adora, no. This is mine and you will not come to take it from me with your air of greatness and heroism.” She faced her; her balance somewhat compromised when she turned abruptly. Adora held her by the shoulders when she saw her tilt to the left. Catra slapped her arms away.

“This is not ok.”

"Don't insist, Adora ..." She turned again, gesturing to the woman at the bar. The bartender raised an eyebrow, before shrugging and handing her a well-folded napkin and another glass of liquor. Adora’s blue eyes widened when she saw her friend unfold the paper to take out a pill and consume it in one swallow.

"Catra, what ...?"

"Don't insist, Adora ..." She repeated, this time it was a threat. Her amber eye was locked on her, the tension rising, bubbling.

The world spinning faster than it should.

“No, I'm not going to keep quiet while you ruin your life with-“

It was enough.

“What does it matter to you?! You left me! You already made your choice and it wasn't me! Now don't complain or be surprised by how I live my life!”

She jumped to her feet, the wooden stool that served as a seat in the bar was thrown and fell with a crash, attracting the attention of the few people who were at the bar at that time.

"Catra! Why are you like this? What happened? What did I do to you?”

"Oh, now you want to know, now after my life is ruined and yours is a damn field of roses."

“Catra…”

"Do you want a revelation? Do you want an answer? This is me, Adora, it always has been, I knew you were somewhat dense, but did you really never see it coming? You never realized what kind of person I am?”

“No, no, that's not true. I know you, Catra, I have lived with you almost a lifetime, this.” She paused, to point her out, to point out the mess she was at the moment. "It's not you."

Catra laughed.

She laughed because she had nothing else to hold on to help her from crying.

She was just an obligation for Adora, another of her responsibilities to maintain, another of the absurd goals that Light instilled in her from childhood and from which she couldn’t part.

She felt rage.

She was ashamed.

"Listen to yourself, Adora. So blind by everything you are that you now feel like you have to take responsibility for me again. Now when your perfect life is as you wanted, right? Now that you have worthwhile friends? Now that you know what there is beyond the city? I've always been like this! How could you not have seen it before!” She stopped, the glass in her hand was heavy, cold, full. "I don't want to have this conversation tonight; I don't want to have this conversation with you. I don't want you to be here.”

“Catra!”

"What do I have to say to get you to go? What do I have to do to make you understand that I don't want you around?” She squeezed the glass, her blue and amber pupils fixed on it.

"I'm not giving up, Catra, I'm not going to resign myself to losing you."

Catra bit her lower lip. That was not what she wanted to hear. That was not what she had prepared herself to hear. She had made a choice; she had chosen her path and she was far from Adora and her light of perfection and the constant reminder of her failure.

The glass creaked in her fingers.

“Go away!” The pieces of glass exploded in her hand and fell to the ground stained with alcohol and blood; her face deformed in a moonstruck smile. "Go have your perfect life away from me! Get away from me, I'm just a bad memory from your childhood, Adora! There is nothing that unites us, there is nothing that binds us!” She walked away, fleeing from Adora who was approaching in an attempt to see her bleeding hand, her eyes injected with tears, her almost animal smile that hid the immensity of her pain.

“Catra.”

She looked into her eyes, one last time, before running off with her hand against her chest, the wound pulsing, her ears ringing, her world crumbling.

Adora did not follow her.

It was already done.

She was twenty years old was truly alone.

The depth of her loneliness tore a ripped breath from her throat.

Alone.

* * *

The following years are blurred.

They pass by in the blink of an eye.

At one point she traded leather jackets for open flannel shirts, ripped jeans for leggings, cheap nail polish for a quality one.

Catra moved to a different floor, changed her cup for drinking coffee, changed her brand of soap, changed when she met Entrapta and Scorpia, changed when in a fit of anger, she destroyed a photo in which Adora put an arm around her neck, like when they were teenagers.

It changed when Perfuma appeared with Scorpia and the world, little by little, like it or not, grew larger, grew wider.

Catra changed her phone, changed her mobile company, changed from a preloaded plan to a monthly plan.

She changed her contacts, her photos, the applications she used on the device.

But Adora's contact never changed.

She did not delete the photos they had together.

She kept reading the messages that Adora sent her from time to time.

She did not answer any of her calls until they eventually stopped.

They were an exhalation, mixed with alcohol, mixed with bad decisions and relapses.

Mixed with what some stranger gave her when she was interested in nothing more than the now and the way to get away from it.

It changed when she climbed positions until suddenly she was in a position she had never seen herself in before.

It changed when she realized she was asking for forgiveness and help, despite the bitter and weak aftertaste that left in her body.

It changed when, after all that. She came to her house to turn on the lights and realize that, despite everything, she was still alone. That nothing she had done had filled her. That nothing that had happened after that night had calmed her.

That the animal inside her had never been domesticated, but it had never reacted in the same visceral way without Adora nearby.

That night, for the first time in years as well, she allowed herself to cry with her hands in her wild hair, with no desire to hold back, no energy to lie to herself anymore.

She had fallen in love with Adora years ago, had gravitated around her for as long as she could, and then when she couldn't bear it when Adora didn't choose her one more time, she'd pushed her away, pulled away from it all in an effort to make a life for her own.

She had made it and still felt empty.

Four years had passed and the scars on her hand from the broken glass were still white, a faded line on her brown skin.

And although she wasn't alone, that's how she felt.

* * *

She didn't recognize the number with no assigned contact on her screen, but it was the fourth time in fifteen minutes that it had called and it was starting to bother her enough that a vein rose in her forehead.

She let it ring a few times before answering, ready to destroy the person on the other end of the line.

“Whoever you are, if you call me again I swear that I will share your contact with the Scientologists.”

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, Catra."

"... Sparkles?" And suddenly she had lost everything, all the way traveled, everything that she had gained. Suddenly she was back that night, four years ago, when a glass of whiskey had broken in her right hand and had stained the streets of the city with blood and tears. She breathed heavily, air thinning for a few seconds, not listening to what Glimmer on the other end of the line was saying.

"Catra, Catra, are you there?" Why was she calling her? They had no bond in common, nothing that united them other than Adora. Had something happened to Adora? Had she missed the opportunity to redo that bond, or at least try to mend it?

Had she let life win over her, again?

"I'm here, what's up?" She forced herself to say, her voice taken, her throat closed.

“Listen, Adora is going to be in town this weekend, I think it's the perfect time for you to talk and clear the air between you two.”

“What?”

"She may not speak much about it, but Adora misses you, or at least thinks of you. She's just a little ... reluctant to call you or start contact again.” Catra sat up, her legs weak, her knees loose. She listened to Glimmer's voice as if she were under the sea, a non-existent layer of water choking and oppressing her.

Scorpia opened the door to her office, a ream of papers under her arm. Catra motioned for her to leave, and the woman, nodding, sat in the available chair across from the desk to wait.

She held her exasperated snort, the conversation with Glimmer was already fragile enough to add anything more to it.

"Why are you telling me all these things?"

“Because Adora misses you and is my friend, I want to see her happy. Also…” There was a little interference on the line, enough for Catra's heart to stop altogether in that silence. “Also, I know Perfuma, who apparently knows you and insists that you've made a lot of progress since the first time she met you, that you are a… changed person.”

"What if I don't want to see Adora again?"

“The last time I saw you, you were in love with her, I doubt you don't want to see her, at least by how long you have been willing to have this conversation.”

Damn your sparkles and your mind-reading power, she thought.

“Where?” She asked, ignoring the detail the other woman had so easily revealed.

“Adora thinks she is going to do me a favor, she will go for a package I bought at the next bookstore, next to a coffee shop in the city center. I planned this very carefully, you better not screw it up.”

Catra held the cell phone with her shoulder, frantically searching for paper and pencil, throwing a couple of things in the process that Scorpia diligently returned to their place with raised eyebrows.

"What is it, wildcat?" She asked, her dark eyes sincere. Catra shook her head, pointing to the phone still against her ear that had now become her life jacket.

"Repeat that, please." This time she wouldn't drive her away.

This time, at least, she would apologize for what she had done.

* * *

She ran her hands through her hair, she suspected that she had never worn it so short since birth, it was still a wild entity with a life of its own, but now it had nobody with which to reveal itself.

She realized that she liked the feel of the cold winter wind on her hair, despite the lack of natural protection. And it helped calm her nerves. She was sitting in the cafeteria next to the bookstore, just like Glimmer had said.

She had black coffee in her cup, documents to review on the table, and her stomach was churning with nerves.

Soon it would be time for Adora to pass by, and she would be on time because of course, she would be. She had already paid for what she would consume, in an effort to make her departure more expeditious when she saw her.

She took another sip of her black coffee, not feeling its bitter taste or the heat on her tongue. Without feeling the ground under her feet or the clothes she had carefully chosen for that day. She couldn't feel anything beyond that impending confrontation.

And now she couldn't take her eyes off the window that Adora would appear through.

Her cell phone vibrated, a message from Perfuma asking about her weekly meditation session. She turned off the device and put it in the depths of one of her jacket pockets. She would worry about that later.

After that afternoon.

After that talk.

She bit her right thumbnail, she wasn't just nervous, she was scared. She was terrified.

There were so many things that could go wrong, so few that could go right. If Glimmer knew how she felt about Adora all those years ago, what was keeping Adora from knowing too? What kept those feelings from coming back to life when she saw her again?

What kept her from only feeling ashamed when she saw her again?

"Control yourself." She whispered, in an attempt to recover herself. They had discussed this with Perfuma, they had had their meditation and breathing exercises.

She could do it.

She could do it.

And then she saw her and, for a second, she doubted what she had set herself out to do.

Adora had changed in those four years. Her shoulders stronger, her jaw sharper, her pace more confident.

Her hairstyle still the same she had cut for her years ago.

Catra sprang to her feet, the coffee was forgotten, the documents under her arm without having been reviewed, everything else was irrelevant. It was time.

It was now.

She let her legs carried her to the outside of the premises, the door behind her slammed shut, the icy north wind stopping her breath for a second, knocking her out of place and out of her reality.

She blinked a few times.

Adora was no longer there, but in the bookstore picking up the package that her friend had asked for.

She had a minute, maybe two, to compose herself.

She kept the documents with a little more decorum in the backpack she used for her work. She looked at herself in the window of the cafeteria, sure that the diners inside were looking at her with a raised eyebrow, ordering the messy scarf and the flannel shirt underneath her grey jacket, the first buttons open, revealing her black shirt.

There wasn't much more she could do.

Her reflection watched her, riddled with doubts and insecurities.

There was nothing more she could do.

"Catra ...?" She turned, Adora staring at her in disbelief, the package in her hand, forgotten, her eyebrows raised.

Her eyes with tears that were slowly forming.

"Hello, Adora ..." She smiled as she could, shy, worried.

And a small, very small, hope.

"Catra ..." she repeated, her voice unchanged. Her tone was the same.

How had she missed her.

She was still in love with that kind and hyperactive idiot.

‘Shit’ was the only word that resonated in her mind.

"I think we have something to talk about, are you coming?"

* * *

They were walking through the city that had watched them grow in silence. Together, but in silence.

That, at least, was something.

Catra eyed at Adora, the bundle firm in her hands, her open jacket defying the winter chill as if it wasn’t even a concern, her gaze straight ahead, her face contorted into a disgruntled grimace.

The city was deserted that day, winter temperatures reaching a minimum.

"Glimmer, it was Glimmer, wasn't it?"

“Yes…”

"I knew it, she is the only one who would get on my phone and in my life without any remorse..." She put her hands in her face, a gesture she had not abandoned over the years.

They kept walking, not knowing how to continue the conversation, but at a constant pace to one of the places they used to frequent when they were little, one of the parks that was close to their old home, on the way to the school they had gone to for so many years.

It was a place well-known and yet private enough to talk with some privacy.

Adora lowered her hands and looked at her for the first time since they met, her blue eyes searching her face, her body, her clothing. Looking for traces of the person she knew in her. Catra tried to ignore her, despite saying it in the worst possible way, what she had yelled at her at the bar she had not gone to four years ago was still true.

That was her.

And this one too.

There was much to talk about, much to clarify. She didn't know if she would have the strength to face it all.

“I've seen your games…”

“Really?”

“Sure, you're still just as tireless as we were in high school, but… I guess your technique is better. I suppose…”

“My coach says the same thing… thank you.”

Catra shrugged. She had an Adora shirt tucked away among her things, but that was something she wasn't willing to share, yet.

Instead, she looked up, almost at their destination. She bit her lip, trying to start the conversation and failing many times. Until in the end, she decided on a neutral “Do you remember this place?”

Adora smiled and her face was the same one she had seen every day years ago. The same one that had chased her in the turbulent nights when, without understanding why, she tried to get away from her.

The same one that she still dreamed about sometimes, in a cruel trick of fate.

“We always ran from Light to this place, I'm surprised she never found us.”

“You ran a whole lap to the park just to stay in shape, not even as a child have you known how to relax.”

Adora laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. "I guess not."

Catra laughed with her despite the ghosts of the past that accompanied her at every step, her time was running out, she knew it, she sensed it. She had to stop her half-hearted intents and launch herself into the hunt for what she was looking for.

Recover that bridge that she thought was lost, recover that bond that she thought was severed forever.

“Adora…”

"Catra, I'm sorry."

“What?” What?!

"I ..." She crossed her arms, turning her head in a nervous gesture, avoiding her gaze. “I shouldn't have pushed you like that, you were right, you were an adult already and I had no right to tell you how to do things ..”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, we are not doing this. You will not apologize to me. I’m the one doing that.”

They looked at each other for a second, exchanging words without vocalizing them. Catra took her hands, searching her strong, calloused fingers for the courage to continue. Her brown skin and black nails were a contrast to Adora's white skin and bare nails.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for what I said, I'm sorry I pushed you out of my life, I'm sorry I lost four years in which we didn't have each other..." Nothing happened immediately, nothing changed in the world around them, but something changed in her after asking for forgiveness.

The tightness in her chest was released, her heart beating free of that bondage, light and wild. The animal inside her that she had worked so hard to understand and accept vibrating in unison with her emotions and her words, a force that was now in her favor instead of against her.

"Catra ..." Adora squeezed her hands, warm and gentle, the same grip despite all the years that had passed.

Catra refused to look at her, focused on their connected hands, on her black boots, on her tight pants.

She concentrated on how attractive Adora was to her, even after not seeing her for years. She could say it, she could vocalize a little more of what resonated in her chest and hope for the best, try not only to repair her bond but to strengthen it and try to take it a little further. Still, Adora had followed her life, had made friends, had accomplished things without her. The center of her fear was there, why would she choose her, when he had so many good things in her life already? Why risk it?

Why would she take her back in to her life, when perhaps she didn't miss her after all?

Her chest twisted at the possibilities of an uncertain future.

Adora bowed before her, touching her forehead with her own, an intimate greeting and a gesture that they had not shared since leaving the home where they grew up under the guidance of a woman who didn’t know how to love them.

Catra felt the air Adora breathed, the warmth of her face, the strength of her hands when holding hers.

A knot settled in her throat and it refused to be ignored, making tears well up in her eyes and breaking her voice to pieces.

"I missed you, Catra ..." Her voice was also strained, forced, on the verge of breaking and giving way to a waterfall of uncontrolled emotions.

Maybe, just maybe, taking a risk wasn't so bad.

"Adora, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ..." Catra launched herself at her, hugging her, holding onto her as if her life depended on her.

In a way it did.

Adora hugged her, a gesture that regardless of the time that passed felt natural.

"Catra ..." She melted into her, that hug that smelled familiar, that had that bitter and at the same time sweet flavor of shared memories, of so many years together, in a life that had started hand in hand.

"I don't want to stop you; I can't stop you. But… please don't stay away from me, come back to me when the time is right… please stay when the time is right…” Tears wet Adora's open jacket, similar to the one she used to borrow on winter cold days to remind herself she was not alone. Adora tightened her hug a little more, nodding before lifting her off the ground and burying her face in her neck.

She was crying, too.

Stay, try, wait for each other. That was something they could do. That was something they could work on.

Search for a life that would bring them together again, unite their separate paths so that they would run in parallel side by side.

That was a request, even a promise, which both of them could make.

* * *

“Hey, Adora.”

“Catra! Did you watch it?”

“Of course I did” She didn’t add the dummy that was on the tip of her tongue, but she was sure Adora had heard it regardless.

"We're going back tonight and we have the weekend off, so if I leave early tomorrow I can be there before noon…" Catra smiled upon hearing it, rearranging her crossed legs, her bed messy and the television still on, she could see a summary of the most important moments on the screen. Of course, the camera had passed many times over Adora, the team's nine, the star scorer who had led them to victory.

"Let me know and I'll be waiting for you."

"You bet!" The background noise grew even more, drowning out Adora's voice for a second. "I have to go now, but I'm writing to you soon, okay?"

"Sure, go get the team's praises, Captain."

"As long as they don't make me pay for dinner tonight..." She stopped, the silence somewhat tense, as she gathered the courage to add that last sentence that sometimes cost her so much to conjure. "I love you, don't forget it, okay?"

Catra smiled.

"Me too, silly. Now go and I’ll see you tomorrow!” The goofy grin she could now recognize without blushing was still there after she disconnected the call and locked her cell phone screen.

Maybe the world was not all right.

But in her world, in her life, one thing had changed forever and she would never let it go, ever again.

Because, after all, Adora had chosen her as she had chosen Adora.

What else could she ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I hope you liked this long one-shot. This was betaed by Sunny (Tumblr slothday) and I can't say thank you enough for making this make just a little more sense.
> 
> Take care and I hope you have a good day!


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